Fathers and Sons
by CharlieMaye
Summary: Severus Snape reflects on the man he became and the man that he wanted to be and how his father influenced his path to destruction.    rated t for mild language and themes


**A/N: So I got inspiration for this while I was driving in the car one day and this song came on. Its by a band local to me, so they're not exactly very well known; but I think they're pretty great. **

**To explain how I want to do this, when you see (1), follow the YouTube link that I have provided below and play the song then. You can do it when ever you want, I suppose, but that's when I intend to have it incorporated into the story. I really have never liked song fics where lyrics are included so I refuse to do that. I got the idea of doing this sort of soundtrack idea from Cybrokat and her story _Liminal. _It's a fantastic read so, if you're ever looking for more good Snape stories, jump on over there. **

**Add this YouTube link into your URL bar and MAKE SURE TO TAKE OUT ALL OF THE SPACES FROM THE ADDRESS: **

**http: / / youtu . be / CZX ssa 0e Ggo**

**Another note, I was actually performing with them for this song with the orchestra. It was pretty great. **

**Alright, so enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Severus Snape sat in his study at Hogwarts. It was a rare opportunity that he had the chance to simply sit. So often, he was torn between doing ridiculous tasks for Dumbledore or even more ridiculous tasks for Voldemort. When neither of them called for him, he relished the moments.<p>

At that moment, he sat in a large winged chair directly in front of the hearth of a fireplace. The fire started to dwindle and he hadn't bothered getting up to stoke it so the room grew darker and darker. He took a swig of the glass of liquor he held in his hand and closed his eyes a moment. As sleepiness eased into his body, he jolted back up. He never let his senses dull and, even on his own time, a relaxed moment seemed foreign. He let out a puff of breath and laid his head back against the chair.

When had he let his life get to this point? When had he even turned from a miserable, silent, awkward teen to an even more miserable, silent, and awkward middle-aged adult? Why did he let his own life slip away?

_Power. Hatred…._

He began to answer his own questions.

_Love. Lilly….._

A sharp pang hit his chest at the thought of her. _Lovely Lilly. _

She brought happiness into his dreary, misshapen world. She had, at one point, given him a direction in his life, even after her death. Her son, Harry. He vowed to her that night, as he held her lifeless body, that he would do all that he could to protect her son. For her. He did it all for her.

He remembered, then, all the hopes and dreams he had and those his mother held for him. He was going to become a great wizard!

And where was he now?

Alone, in a dark room in Hogwarts. No family, no money, to happiness to his name. Only the title of a double spy and scars, internal and physical.

He knew it all started with his father. (1)

He was a muggle and a horrible, worthless excuse of a man.

He was a drunk with a temper—an abusive temper—and never showed any warmth or compassion to anyone but himself. Not even to his mother.

Severus loved his mother, dearly. She was the first person to ever shed her love for him and not expect anything in return. She was kind, selfless, beautiful, and smart. She was everything wonderful that he'd hope that he could find in himself. But he knew better.

He was a spitting image of his father, and he knew it. An ugly, worthless replica.

He took another drink and savored the sharp sting as the liquid trickled down his throat.

He was disgusted with himself, though. When he was young and still blinded by ignorance and innocence, he actually admired his father. Like most children, he wanted to be just like the man. Until the man's horrid temper turned and lashed out on his own son, that is. It never stopped there. He was introduced to the harsh and ugly realities of the dark side of the world. And by his own father, no less.

Perhaps that's why he hated children. They were all stupid and merry and unknowing to everything wrong with the world.

How he hated his father. He hated him for ruining his life. He hated him for wiping away his fog of innocence—he would've gladly stayed there if he had the choice. He hated him for not doing anything worthwhile. He hated him, most importantly, for what he did to his mother.

He took another drink but knew he couldn't erase the disgusting imprint from his thoughts. Ever.

That final night, when his father took his drunken stupor too far, was the final step in Severus' step into his ugly adulthood.

He was nine. He had been in his room, reading a book on his bed by the window. The rain pelted down on the window. It had been a relaxing afternoon, in his opinion. Until the git came home from the bars. He knew because he could hear him yelling downstairs at his mother. She rarely ever raised her voice but that time she had and he knew better than to interfere.

He selfishly tried to drown the ruckus out and bury himself deeper in his book but failed. He wanted so badly to go downstairs and shove the man out of the house and ban him from ever returning. He sat on the staircase and peered through the thick banister.

"YOU WHORE." He spat at her through swigs of a beer bottle. He pushed her into another room and Severus gripped the rails of the banister tighter. He could hear her cries as his father began another assault of verbal and physical blows. She came running back into sight, as did his father with a handgun gripped tightly in his hand. He pulled the trigger and both his father and Severus watched as she fell to the ground.

Severus retreated back to his room and hid under his bed and could hear his father calling. "Severus, you little prick. Get over here." There was an audible thud as, he assumed, he stumbled over his feet and tripped on the stairs.

He fled to the closet instead.

Severus heard the springs groan as his father sat on his bed. He cracked the door open just a little and could see his father sitting there, contemplation and confusion smeared over his rough face. Slowly, he brought the handgun up to his temple. Severus didn't feel the urge to stop him as he saw his father's finger tighten around the trigger.

He's never forgotten the final look on his father's face as he toppled over onto the floor.

The current Severus took another long drink from his glass, draining the final drops.

Even though his father never actually managed to kill his mother—she survived with bullet fragments engraved in her shoulder—, he still harbored the intentions of a murderous bastard.

And though he hated to admit this to himself, Severus was everything his father was. And so much more.

* * *

><p><strong>Review. Let me know what you think. As always, thanks for reading. <strong>


End file.
